• Chapter One

    ~Welcome to Sanity~

    “The door is to the right if you feel sanity is too much for you.”








    Same boring old life is what you thought when you picked this book up. Maybe a couple of vampires, elves, something random that catches your interest. Or maybe you just saw the cover and thought “That’s it, the most mystical unicorn book.” Might as well pick it up and read it. The chances are you saw this book randomly sitting in a waiting room or on some shelf at a bookstore. Welcome, now that we have brought realization to the world you can take a few deep breathes. I am just an ordinary writer, as for my stories…

    You best find a seatbelt to keep yourself in place. The wild ride is just around the corner, now the choice is up to you. Will you sit and feed your brain by reading or will you simply walk away and watch something on a screen. The invention of the TV, the one thing everyone would sit around and stare at when it first came out. I wonder, did people sit and stare at books ever at all? Everything new gets stared at, infants, cars, stores, houses, heck even the new brand of toilet paper. What happens to the old? Well, that does not concern this in any way at all. Now that you have proved you can last a few sentences into this, we will now get to the real story.

    “Roxana! Hurry up in there!” Valentina, a short but frail teenage girl is pounding on the bathroom door. Inside her twin sister Roxana is sitting on the counter. A hand is over Roxana’s mouth holding back the flow of laughter.

    First, let me explain the twins. Valentina is as earlier explained, a frail and short teenage girl. Hope you remembered it, seeing it was only a paragraph before this one. She has long blonde hair and brilliant green eyes. I could stop here, like an amateur writer would. This is not her character, there is more than eye color, hair, and height. Valentina’s face has a scar that flows down the right side of her face. She usually covers it with her long blonde hair. Her smile carries out dimples in her cheeks, although her nose is a little too big for her small face.

    Valentina is still standing in the hallway, pounding on the door. Her light sleeves flowing down from her wrists to her elbows. Green always looks beautiful on her, it complements her skin and hair. Not the color of baby throw up green or something outrageous like neon green, but soft natural greens. Everything to make her twin sister jealous, only the scar being the one flaw on her body. She has perfect skin, not a single blemish anywhere ever. Perfect grades, perfect family, perfect house, perfect everything. Well, almost everything. She has a twin sister, her twin sister is a little prankster.

    Which brings me to Roxana. The grace of a goddess, the pale skin of one of those Goth kids but with a hint of sunlight. Almost the complete opposite of her twin sister. Roxana owns the darkest brown hair cut in layers. It has a weave with blonde in it. The truth is if she were to have full on dark brown hair she would look like those kids that have a million piercings and are destined to get tattoos all over their body.

    Roxana has light brown eyes; they are warm and closer to looking like orange eyes. Lucky for her, she shares the gene of smooth skin. The one thing separating her from her twin sister Valentina is her height. Roxana is tall even for most girls her age while her twin sister sits a good four to six inches shorter than her. The two twins share the same face shape, Roxana not having the issue of a pinch too big of a nose. Roxana lacks the scar on her face as well; therefore she had no need to grow it out long like her sister had.

    Back into reality, Valentina is still banging on the bathroom door while Roxana is sitting on the counter with a hand still over her mouth. The thrill faint laughter is barely heard on the other side of the door. Valentina had not noticed her sister laughing, though she knew that her sister was surely playing some kind of game. It is early morning, Roxana had already showered, straightened her hair and applied mascara and eyeliner. Valentina is begging to at least shower before her hair turns dull and lifeless with grease. Yes, the girls suffer one common irregularity. Their hair is greasy after about twenty seven hours. It only makes them that much more human.

    “Roxana, whatever you are doing it is not funny.” Valentina continues, slowing her knock and setting a hand on the door knob.

    “It is to me.” Roxana had finally spoken to her sister on the other side of the door. Frantic laughing is following her speech as she falls from the counter onto the floor of the bathroom. The plush soft carpet catching her fall and keeping her from bruising.

    “You take way too much pleasure in ridiculous things.” Valentina still fiercely tries to get into the bathroom. Her left hand knocking while her right hand twists the locked door knob. “Just open this door and let me in.”

    “But I am taking pleasure in something.” Roxana is still on the floor, rolling on the soft plush carpet. “I guess it is something you will never know of. You never take pleasure in anything.” Roxana is laughing so hard that she has to gasp for hair between words.

    Valentina’s face turned evil. Her eyebrows facing down creating an evil glare between her and the door. The only thing that separates her from a nice long warm shower to begin the day with. This ridiculous door and her ridiculous sister playing a childish game. Eventually Valentina gets so frustrated she kicks the door and pouts off.
    “Valentina?” Roxana finds the other side of the door to be quiet. Rising to her knees she looks at the door for a moment. Letting the soft plush carpet to swirl around her knees. A pair of leggings and a skirt accommodate her bottom half. Her upper half having a simple black tank top pulled over her body and a bit over her skirt. Lacking only shoes, she searches the floor of the bathroom. Soon enough she spots her shoes. A pair of low top black converse.

    Valentina has ran into Roxana’s joke like this before. She will most likely not open the door for a few hours, therefore Valentina has no choice. The urge to be clean is taking over her body, forcing her to walk outside and into the shed. A house for all the tools of the family, Valentina sneaks a screw driver into the house and to the bathroom door.

    Roxana, being the trickster she always has been had something different planned this time. She had witnessed her twin sister removing the door knob before. This time would be no different. Roxana had opened the window and snuck outside to the side of the house. Soon enough she is on the streets, laughter still in her breath as she walks. When she hears her sister calling her name she begins to run, laughter slowing her down by stealing her breath. Once Roxana is a few blocks away from home she finds a park bench and decides to catch her breath and calm down. Once sitting on the park bench she bursts into laughter. Her laughter being something she has lost most conscience over.

    Had she been self conscience over her laughter she would have never survived elementary school. Everything seems funny to her, everything amazes her, and she is always surprised at things she knows is going to happen. Laughter is just as common for her as breathing the air around her. Her sister Valentina had been the opposite, she would smile or smirk if she saw or heard something funny. Valentina is the boring one in the group. Therefore, the boring one is the one that gets the most pranks pulled on her.

    Roxana continues to laugh, the laughter pulling her to haunch over. The summer breeze hitting her pale face as she continues to laugh historically. Finally she grabs a hold of herself and sits upright, only a few giggles coming from her throat as she looks at the summer scene around her. A few families on walks, their small children on bikes and talking frantically. Families, young and old. A few groups of friends hanging around some other park benches and trees. One person sticks out the most, a boy about Roxana and Valentina’s age sitting under a tree. He had been laying down, his hand extended out.

    There is something in his hand. It looks like a small spiral off some kind, perhaps a sketch book? Roxana is very curious as she rises to her feet and starts walking towards the tree. As she steps forward the boy’s identity comes a little clearer. He is much older than she had originally thought, maybe in his early twenties. Much older than sixteen, she takes more steps closer. He has a tattoo on his outstretched wrist. It looks like some kind of snake that is slithering down his arm, the tail of it hidden under his long sleeve black shirt.

    Slowly now, Roxana takes slower steps to approach him. He sure enough has a sketchpad in his left outstretched arm. His right arm is laying across his eyes, most likely to keep out the bright summer morning sun. Roxana begins to hesitate with her every step. He has a dirty blonde hair color, the air cut short and back. Even with his thick clothing Roxana can slowly see that he is not weak, surely he has biceps that could restrain someone.

    Curiosity killed the cat, but fear killed the scavenging mouse. Again, Roxana moves, her left foot sitting in the shadow of the overhanging tree. Slower now, Roxana steps forward, her right foot falling into the oblivious dark.

    “Roxana?” Valentina had finally taken the door knob and broke into the bathroom. Of course, Roxana had not been sitting on the counter anymore. In fact, Roxana was not hiding in the bathroom at all, that is the point when Valentina notices the open window and the curtains blowing in the morning breeze.

    Shock and worry surround her as she rushes to the window. She has to stand on the toilet to look out it, seeing the size nine converse foot prints confirm her thoughts. Roxana had bailed out the window, Valentina lifts herself out the window and into the soft ground. A bit of loose soil is lifted up with her drop, the sprinklers had wetted the ground. Just enough to show the direction of Roxana’s steps.

    Valetina follows quickly her twin’s steps. Finding them going down familiar streets she had known that her sister had gone to a park they used to walk to as little children. Within moments Valentina is within sight of the park, only to see a familiar park bench. She had rather hoped to see Roxana sitting on the bench; sorrow destroys her face when she sees the empty bench.

    Soon enough Valentina sees the same size nine foot prints in the soil around the park. They lead to a tree in the distance. Valentina is not gifted with some kind superhuman vision or anything. The figure looks similar, but to be sure she starts to walk forward in hope that it is Roxana. Of course, I know it is Roxana in the distance still slowly approaching the sleeping boy.

    Roxana drops to one knee. Low on the ground she reaches forward, slipping her hand over the sketch book and pulling it slowly from the boy’s hands. Once she has it, she leans against the tree and opens the book. The squeal of the spine sounds telling her it is a well loved but fairly new sketch book. Opening to the first page she looks at the brilliant document. The front page, being the title page is written in some other language. If Roxana were to guess she would say French, it is defiantly not the nonsense her Spanish teacher had written on the board.

    The writing is written in paragraphs in ubber small writing. In the center of the page is a brilliant drawing of the moon, each curve in the surface is shaded perfectly. It looks exactly like a black and white look through a telescope at a full moon. Such brilliance, this boy must have been drawing the sky last night. But it seemed so cloudy; yesterday it had rained so there were still clouds in the sky in the late evening.

    Carefully, Roxana turns the page to find another beautiful sketch. This one being of the park bench, in the background being a moon. Roxana has to squint her eyes thinking back to science class, wishing she had paid attention to the moon rather than make fun of it for being the sun’s reflection. Slowly, she turns the pages again and again. More and more beautiful sceneries. Each drawn and shaded with such care, with such skill.

    The boy by her side had been breathing soft and smoothly trying to remember the scene he had drawn the night before. It had been the moon barely visible from the rain clouds, and yet it looked so beautiful and perfect. Tightening his left hand into a fist he notices something, his sketch book had been moved. Smoothly he sits up, slowly and unnoticeable. Looking around he lightly pats the ground, looking but having no luck finding the sketch book. Brush a hair out of his dark green eyes he looks at the scenery around him. It is day.

    Day. The one time the sun’s rays hit the ground. The one time he is not supposed to be out, the one time he is not supposed to draw the moon. Frantic, he searches around him for his forgotten and lost sketch pad. Then he notices something, a shoe attached to a hunched leg to his left. Slowly, he crawls around the tree to find a young girl. Her hair cut in one of those popular punk styles, the blonde weaving through her dark hair.

    In her lap was his sketch book. She had reached the last page, the drawing he had made the night before of the moon. Her brown orange eyes are studying the page in front of her better than her hearing is noticing his movement. For a few moments, he sits there and looks over her shoulder, his breath light. Last night’s sketch had come out rather well. The clouds looking as if they are indented into the page. As if the page is the looking glass, if you could reach forward you would feel the cool night air. Feel the moisture those clouds are leaving behind.

    With his attention on the girl and his own sketch book he had lost all sense of the world around him. Just as the girl had, now they sit at the tree together not even acknowledging each other’s existence. Neither had noticed the short blonde running towards them, her blonde hair flowing and revealing the long scar on her face.

    Once Valentina had reached about half way to the tree she had concluded that it was Roxana. She continued calmly until she had seen the boy sleeping at the tree wake up and looks over her shoulder and at something across Roxana’s lap. A sense of need to protect her twin had come over her. The scar across her face pulsing with a sudden elaborate need to be with her sister. When they had been bored, the doctors had to go into an immediate c section. A scalpel had cut into baby Valentina’s head. Not too deep, but deep enough to scar her face. Remembrance of her birth on her face always. It had never hurt before, not until she saw the face and the dark green eyes of the boy peering over Roxana’s shoulder.

    “Roxana!” Valentina had reached the tree. She had not stepped into the shadow of the tree yet, only stayed a bit away from the tree. Something about it told her to be careful, be on the alert for something strange to happen. Roxana had not heard her sister; she had not even glanced up from the sketch book in her lap.

    Roxana’s eyes are fixed onto the phase of the moon sketched. It is perfect, just like looking through a telescope. But she had seen no telescope, how could he sketch the clouds every curve without a telescope? Maybe he just has patience, patience and a good keen eye. A steady hand and a keen eye, the two tools of a sketch artist. Only then does she feel the breath on her neck, the hair on her head standing straight with shock and fear.

    He had been peering over her shoulder. Ignoring the voice of the girl outside of the shadows. When he is in the shadows he is safe, and this girl has seen the sketches he spent many nights on. What should he make of her? Most likely manipulate her into believing he is a sketch artist who favors the moon. What if the sketches had caught her eye like they had his? She will find herself in more trouble than it is worth.

    “Ma’am.” He ends the silence, his hand slipping over her shoulder and onto the sketch book’s surface. “May I have my property back?”

    “Oh yes.” Roxana suddenly slams the sketch book shut and jumps forward onto her feet. Extending the sketchbook back down towards the dirty blonde boy’s direction. Both of her hands grasp the edges of the book.

    “Thank you.” The tips of his fingers touch the cover of the book. His fingers are full of silver rings, some with moon phases and other with engraved words in Latin. “How long were you looking?”

    “Forgive me.” Roxana drops the sketch book. “I had seen all of the sketches while my curiosity took over my mind. I am sorry for tres-”

    “You had seen them all?!” His voice is filled with worry as he too stands up. Towering above the already tall Roxana. With dark green eyes looking down at him he pulls her hands into his, the sketch book on the ground below their feet. Slowly, he had slipped a ring off his left ring finger. Placing it silently into Roxana’s palm before leaning back down to the ground and picking up his sketch book.

    He lightly dusts it off. Holding it securely in his hand and looking over Roxana’s shoulder again at the blonde girl in the distance. The scar across her face tells him to back up from Roxana a bit. Roxana turns to see her sister. Immediately, she steps towards her sister and out of the shadows. Into the light, her left hand in a fist around the ring the boy had slipped into her hand. Valentina stands, short against her twin sister. Immediately, Valentina takes Roxana’s hand and leads her away, giving the boy in the shadows a death glare while walking away.

    “Who was that?” Valentina questions, setting her hand on the back of her twin. Roxana flinches in the sunlight and at Valentina’s touch.

    “An artist.” Roxana answers while stepping forward to sit on the park bench. She places her hands in her lap, her right hand curling around her clenched left fist. “He draws the moon.”

    “Are you sane? The door is to your right if you feel sanity is too much for you.” Valentina sets her left arm across her sister’s shoulder. “You look like you are in some kind of a…daze.”

    “I’m fine.” Roxana lies through her teeth. Slowly, she peers over her shoulder back at the boy in the shadows of the tree. He has sat down again, his sketch book open as he sketches something he is looking at. I had only seen scenes in the night, with the moon in the background. Always the moon, nothing else ever.

    “Are you sure?” Valentina questions, still looking at her sister. “What did he tell you?”

    “Not much.” Roxana stands up and looks down at her sister. With her right hand she reaches down, a smile on her face while she pulls her sister onto her feet and rushes her away from the park. Away from that tree, away from the shadows, and away from the boy with dark eyes.

    “Roxana?” Valentina pulls back while being swung around by her sister. “What’s the matter?”

    Roxana turns to face her sister. A smile on her face that makes her eyes squint, slowly she opens them again. Looking over her sister. Valentina had been afraid for her sister; she had not even changed out of her pajamas. Currently Valentina is wearing natural green pajamas and a pair of powder pink bunny slippers.

    “I didn’t want to tell you at first.” Roxana begins to giggle. “But you are wearing your pajamas and bunny slippers.”

    Valentina looks down at herself and begins to gasp. “Oh heavens! Why hadn’t you told me before?!” Valentina screams and starts running down the street towards home. Roxana stands on the sidewalk, her breath light and full of happiness. A giggle is stuck in her throat, waiting to break through as laughter.

    Roxana closes her eyes, pulling her hands behind her back. Her left hand still tight around the ring. The ring digs into her palm and she pulls her hands in front of her. She examines the ring closely; it has the same moon phase as the last sketch from the night before. Looking down at the ring she slips it onto her left ring finger. It fits perfectly, as if it were a one size fits all, it does not even slip out of place.

    Turning on her heel, she tries to look back at the boy who had slipped it into his hand. Roxana sees that the boy had disappeared; perhaps he had left to go home? If he has a home to go to, most likely went to find some food. Or perhaps he has a studio somewhere, some place where he paints and sells paintings.